


a weapon has no emotions

by phoenixsigns



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Implied Violence, It/Its Pronouns for Android!Nemesis, M/M, Nemesis is an android, Other, Robot/Human Relationships, Selfmade is a human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixsigns/pseuds/phoenixsigns
Summary: Nemesis was an android created to surpass humanity. It operated under 3 fundamental rules:Rule number one: Nemesis is a weaponRule number two: A weapon has no emotionsRule number three: A weapon must always obey its creatorsThen it was introduced to Oskar Boderek.
Relationships: Oskar "Selfmade" Boderek/Tim "Nemesis" Lipovšek
Comments: 48
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title (and fic premise) based on a quote from Nemesis.
> 
> Nemesis is an android who uses it/its pronouns (at least at first). Hopefully it's not too confusing to read!
> 
> Hoping to update this every 2 weeks or so (maybe not in December, since I'll be busy most of the month).

Nemesis was created with one goal in mind - victory.

Its creators at Mad Lions Laboratories equipped it with the best tools to achieve that goal. They uploaded terabytes of data to its artificial consciousness so he could learn all he needed to know for its missions, outfitted it with a body made of titanium alloy so it could withstand any enemy blow, and crafted it the finest blades and other weaponry so it could take down anyone standing in the way between it and its objective. Finally, they ingrained three fundamental rules into its very core, so that it would always know what it was and why it was here.

Rule number one was: _Nemesis is a weapon_

Rule number two was: _A weapon has no emotions_

Rule number three was: _A weapon must always obey its creators_

This was the purpose and existence of Nemesis. And Nemesis followed these rules faithfully on every mission its creators sent it on, not knowing there was any other alternative.

And then one day one of its creators introduced Nemesis to a human.

In Nemesis’ experience, interaction with humans was purely one-sided. If the human was one of its creators, it would obey them. If the human was not one of its creators, it either ignored or eliminated them on its way to some mission objective, depending on its creators’ orders.

And yet this new human fell into none of these categories. He was not to be obeyed, ignored, or eliminated, according to the creator. Instead, Nemesis was to listen to the human speak, then speak in response to his words.

“Try having a conversation with it,” the creator said to the human, before closing the door and leaving the two alone in the room. It was a room that Nemesis was very familiar with. It was often taken to this room so the creators could conduct experiments on it. This human, it concluded, must be part of a new experiment.

Nemesis focused on the human, performing a quick scan of his body and discovering that his heart rate was slightly elevated. Most humans had an elevated heart rate around Nemesis, especially when he was about to eliminate them. Yet this human knew Nemesis was not to eliminate him, and his heart rate was still elevated. Nemesis filed this information away for further analysis.

“So...do you talk?” The human finally said. Nemesis blinked at him slowly. It had been asked a question. Its creator had told it to respond to the human.  
“I do,” Nemesis said. “My creators outfitted me with advanced voice synthesizers to communicate with them.”

There was a pause. The human cleared his throat.

“That’s ni-”

“You are not one of my creators,” Nemesis said. “And yet you speak to me.”

The human started. “Well, yeah. Is that unusual for you?”

“A total of one hundred and seventeen humans that are not one of my creators have spoken to me since I came to be. You are the first human I have spoken to that is not one of my creators.”

The human gave Nemesis a look that it interpreted as curiosity. “Why didn’t you reply to anyone else?”

“I was not given the order to speak to these humans. I was given the order to eliminate all humans who were in my way.”

The human gulped, and his heart rate elevated further. “But you weren’t given the order to...eliminate me, right?”

Nemesis shook its head, and the human’s shoulders relaxed.

“Well, I’m definitely happy about that…” The human scratched the back of his neck. “You’re some kind of military robot, then? I don’t work here, I just signed up to participate in this study for extra cash…”

“I was created to surpass humanity,” Nemesis replied.

“O...kay.” The human was silent for several seconds. “That’s interesting...I’m guessing you’re a lot stronger and smarter than me.”

“My physical strength and IQ are hundreds of times greater than any human being.”

“You sure are humble,” the human chuckled. Nemesis interpreted his words and tone of voice as indicating sarcasm.

“Humility is not necessary for my objectives,” Nemesis said blandly.

The human smiled and shrugged. “Well, that would depend on what your objective is, wouldn’t it? If you’re trying to get people to like you and not be weirded out by you, bragging about how you’re better than all humans generally isn’t a good idea.”

“Such a thing would never become one of my objectives,” Nemesis replied, though its processors whirred in strange ways at the thought of getting this human to like it. Such a thing had no benefit to it. Its creators had not ordered it to get the human to like it. Therefore its words must be true.

“Why am I here, then?” The human asked. “Why do you think your creators brought me, some punk off the street, to talk to you?”

This question gave Nemesis pause. It did not know its creators' intentions with this experiment, nor could it come up with any reasonable explanation for why they decided to make it converse with this human.

The human’s facial expression changed, the lines around his eyes softening and one corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “You haven’t even asked me what my name is yet. For a robot built to surpass humanity, you sure have no manners.”

“What is your name?” Nemesis felt compelled to ask in response.

“I’m Oskar Boderek.” The human - no, Oskar - took Nemesis’ hand and shook it firmly. “Nice to meet you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Oskar was unlike any other human Nemesis had ever met.

He was so curious about Nemesis and everything about it, constantly peppering it with questions about its origins, what it did every day, how much it knew about the rest of the world. Although its processors could easily keep up with this constant demand for information, a part of Nemesis felt quite odd about being asked so many seemingly inconsequential questions. It was often asked questions by its creators, of course, but those questions were focused, clinical, and always with a clear objective in mind. No so with Oskar.

Instead, Oskar seemed strangely fixated on what Nemesis “liked” and “disliked.”

“That is an absurd question,” Nemesis replied at first. “I have no need for either.”

But Oskar dismissed its response. “Everyone has stuff they like or don’t like! Even a robot built for world domination or whatever. Come on! Do you prefer certain kinds of missions over others?”

Nemesis felt the sudden urge to expel air loudly through its artificial nostrils despite such an action having no practical effect. Eventually, it suppressed this urge. “Every mission serves the needs and desires of my creators. Therefore, they are all preferred in equal measure. I may prioritize certain mission objectives over others at the behest of one of my creators.”

“That’s not what  _ you _ prefer, though. That’s what your creators prefer.” Oskar steps closer to Nemesis. “Do you like certain mission objectives better than others? You mentioned a lot of missions where you, uh, kill people...Do you get to help people sometimes, too?”

“Eliminations occur on an as needed basis. You appear to be implying that my primary function is as an assassin. I have many purposes and uses.” Nemesis said, perhaps a little more stiffly than it usually did.

Oskar raised both his hands nervously. “Woah, didn’t mean to get your hackles up. I’m sure you do all sorts of great, cool stuff that doesn’t involve killing.” However, the corners of his mouth soon lifted. “Hey, I think that was a show of emotions from you! Are you defensive about being called nothing but a murderbot?”

This time, Nemesis could not suppress the urge to look away from Oskar. “Defensiveness is an emotion. Nemesis is a weapon. A weapon has no emotions. Therefore I was not defensive,” ot recited, drawing upon the rules carved into very core of its being. They were put there by its creators, so they could never be wrong. “I was merely correcting an erroneous assumption contained in your statement.”

Oskar’s facial expression did not change. “Suuuure. I’m sure that’s what it was, Nemmy.”

Nemesis finally looked back at Oskar. “‘Nemmy’ is an unknown input. Please define.”

“Oh, it’s a nickname for you. Nemesis is too pretentious and a bit of a mouthful. Nemmy makes you sound way more human. And it’s cute!”

“I am not human,” Nemesis replied immediately.

Oskar rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, you’re built to surpass humanity and all. But you’ll never be accepted by humans as the next big thing if you’re unlikable. And trust me...If you want to become likable you’ve gotta take everything you can get to help you with that.”

“Becoming “likable” is not one of my objectives.”

“Well, it is now, Nemmy!” Oskar exclaimed, grabbing Nemesis by its wrist. “Lesson one in becoming a likable guy starts now!”

Nemesis narrowly avoided activating its defense protocols in response to the contact, reminding itself that Oskar was a harmless civilian who meant Nemesis no harm.

_ How many of the humans you eliminated were harmless civilians who meant you no harm? _ Something whispered deep inside Nemesis’ core. It ignored the strange sensation that momentarily flooded its sensors.

Nemesis easily pulled out of Oskar’s grip, standing at attention and glancing around the sterile, windowless room it and Oskar were in. Oskar stopped too, frowning when he noticed Nemesis’ sudden, eerie stillness. 

For a moment, there was no sound or movement except the whirring of Nemesis’ fans and the rapid rise and fall of Oskar’s chest. Then Nemesis turned back to Oskar.

“It appears my creators do not object to your declaration. Therefore I will act as though becoming likable is one of my objectives with you.”

A short burst of laughter erupted out of Oskar’s mouth. “Is that what you stopped for? You scared the crap out of me.”

“‘Crap’ is an unknown input. Please define.”

Oskar’s eyes widened. “You seriously don’t know what that means? Did your creators teach you no swears at all?”

“I know of profanity and its use among humans. My creators saw no use in introducing vulgar language into my vocabulary, however.”

Oskar smiles very wide, wider than any human smile Nemesis had ever seen. “Well, we’re going to have to change that. Alright, Nemmy, looks like cursing will be our first lesson.”


	3. Chapter 3

Oskar hadn’t been sure what he’d signed up for when he walked into the unassuming grey building located in the outskirts of Berlin.

Details about the study he’d agreed to participate in were scarce, both in the advertisement where he’d originally learned of the study and in the email they’d sent him once he signed up. All he’d cared about at the time was the pay, which was quite impressive for the 2 hours per week that they wanted him in for. 

Never in a million years would Oskar have guessed that he would be hanging out with a robot and teaching it to swear and make the L9 sign with its hands (a move that he was proud to say he’d invented himself and had taken off in his friend group).

“Like this?” Nemmy asked, turning its head toward Oskar. 

Oskar considered Nemmy’s hands carefully, before slowly shaking his head. “It’s good, but your left hand is tilted a little to the side. Here, it should be like this…” He reached for Nemmy’s hand, positioning it at just the right angle to properly convey that L9 spirit.

At first, he’d been terrified of touching Nemmy, especially after Nemmy said all that stuff about ‘eliminating humans.’ Its reaction to Oskar touching it for the first time hadn’t reassured him much either; it hadn’t tensed up like a human would have, but Oskar had heard the whirring beneath its synthetic skin intensifying, as if Nemmy had been deciding on a response to the touch that could potentially have been lethal, or at the very least painful. 

But things had changed after that first, terrifying moment. Not only had Oskar not been horrifically injured after he grabbed the wrist of a killer robot, Nemmy had agreed (in its own strange, robotic way) to Oskar teaching it how to be likable. Oskar had, of course, been quick to emphasize that one crucial aspect of being likable to humans was not hurting or killing them. 

"I have no intention of harming humans unless ordered to do so by my creators,” Nemmy had responded, which was a little worrying. “However, such orders are vanishingly rare. The vast majority of humans have no need to fear me, and thus this will not impede my ability to be likable to most humans,” it had immediately added, likely in response to Oskar’s less-than-positive reaction to its previous statement.

Now Oskar felt no fear or hesitation when it came to touching Nemmy. Whether it was slinging an arm around its shoulder, patting its back, or high-fiving it (something that had taken a few tries for Nemmy to learn to do properly), the movements all came to him as naturally as they would for a friend or family member.

Still, Nemmy wasn’t really a friend. It was more like a fun, hyper-sophisticated toy than anything else. Sure, it had a cutesy nickname now, and it was interesting to see how Nemmy changed in response to Oskar’s lessons as the weeks went by, how it went from something cold and lacking any extraneous words or actions to something that acted much more human. Now it moved around like a human, talked (mostly) like a human, and made facial expressions like a human. 

Case in point, today Oskar had missed the bus and arrived at the facility 30 minutes later than his scheduled arrival time. During the first few weeks, Nemmy would have just stood there eerily the whole time, standing straight as if awaiting its next order and with no facial expression until Oskar interacted with it. Today, Nemmy had its hip cocked and was tapping one foot on the ground as Oskar entered the room. 

“You’re late,” it said, an admonishing tone creeping into its synthesized voice. “It’s rude to keep someone waiting, as you know.”

Oskar chuckled sheepishly, feeling both proud and suitably chastised at having his brief lesson on human etiquette so successfully turned against him.

And yet there was a part of Oskar that was always aware that Nemmy was not, and would never be, actually human. Nemmy may now be able to parrot several aspects of human interaction, but it was clear that it fundamentally did not understand the things that made humans human.

First, it did not understand emotions or empathy.

One day, Oskar had wandered in feeling devastated because he’d been fired from his job that morning. Nemmy had asked him how he was doing, because Oskar had taught him to ask that at the start of conversations.

“I feel like shit,” Oskar had replied bluntly, and for a moment he’d hoped Nemmy would be able to comfort him.

Nemmy hadn’t comforted him. Instead, its face went blank as it processed Oskar’s response. Finally, all that it said was, “Scatological reference unknown. Please rephrase.”

It would have been funny if Oskar hadn’t already been at his limit. 

Nemmy continued to stand there as Oskar broke down into tears. “Please rephrase,” it repeated again, gazing emptily at Oskar’s hunched form. 

Hollowly, Oskar wished he’d taught Nemmy how to respond to someone crying in front of them.

Additionally, Nemmy did not understand free will.

After the previous incident, Oskar found a new job. Unfortunately, he didn’t particularly like his new job.

“My boss sucks,” he complained to Nemmy one day. “This hardass got all pissed off just because I took a 20-minute break instead of 15 minutes!”

Nemmy had frowned, wrinkling its eyebrows in a display of confusion that Oskar had taught it a few weeks ago.

“If your employer ordered you to take a 15-minute break, how could you take a 20-minute break instead? Why did you not follow his command?”

Oskar had shaken his head in frustration and disbelief. “It’s just 5 minutes. It shouldn’t matter that I wasn’t working for 5 freaking minutes when I’m hard at work every other hour of the day.”

“Humans do not follow orders exactly as they are given,” Nemmy had responded, almost to itself. It seemed confused by this realization, and almost disturbed, if a robot could be either of those things. 

No matter how much Oskar tried to explain it to Nemmy, it simply could not understand how or why someone would ignore the orders of their superior.

“A weapon must always obey its creators,” it had said simply, and a chill went up Oskar’s spine as he was reminded of Nemmy’s true nature. Not a person, but a weapon. Not someone who made their own choices, even if they were in opposition to what other people wanted, but a thing that was programmed to follow all orders it was given, no matter how monstrous, baffling, or contradictory.

The science and technology that went into creating Nemmy was completely beyond Oskar’s knowledge or understanding, but he felt like he understood the fundamentals of what Nemmy was. Nemmy was created to surpass humanity, but it was subservient to humans and could only act out a pale imitation of humanity, even with Oskar’s weekly lessons on becoming likable. Nemmy had no emotions and no will of its own, no wants or desires independent of those of its creators, and it never would.

It all made sense to Oskar.

What didn’t make sense was what happened when he entered the room 20 weeks after initially meeting Nemmy.

That was the day Nemmy asked to be referred to as “he” instead of “it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's updating this fic more than half a year after they said they would! I promise I won't take this long to bring out the next chapter.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed seeing things from Oskar's perspective!


	4. Chapter 4

_ 3 weeks earlier _

Nemesis stood before its creators. Its facial expression was blank and its body posture was stiff and inhuman, as it always had been before it had met Oskar. Before its creators, it was not ‘Nemmy,’ but ‘Nemesis’ or “PROJECT Nemesis.’ Before its creators, its objective was not to become likeable, but to be a weapon. And weapons, it had gleaned, were not meant to be likeable.

Nemesis’ creators had summoned it to the laboratory to perform scheduled maintenance. Nemesis received maintenance every 6 months to ensure that it was in excellent shape. A being created to surpass humanity could not ever become run-down, or it would be inferior.

Nemesis understood this perfectly. It did not understand why its creators were performing maintenance now, when it hadn’t even been 1 month since the last time it received maintenance, but it followed their orders faithfully to the letter. It never even occurred to Nemesis to question its creators’ judgment, or their intentions.

“Power down,” one of its creators ordered as she stepped toward it, and Nemesis’ receptors ceased to collect and store data in its system memory from that moment on.

Nemesis felt itself powering back on. It had been 4 hours since it had been powered down, 1 hour more than maintenance usually took. Again, it did not question this discrepancy.

“Go on, back to storage with you,” one of his creators said, dismissing Nemesis with a wave of her hand. As always, Nemesis obeyed.

_ 2 weeks earlier _

Nemesis had been called before its creators. Again, it stood before them, placid and rigid, ready to obey.

However, today it was not given an order to subject itself to experimentation or to perform some task for its creators. Today, its creators gave Nemesis its first choice.

“We leave it up to you, Nemesis. You may remain in the facility and meet with Oskar tomorrow at the usual time, or you may embark on a mission. This mission is estimated to last a minimum of 4 weeks. We are fine with either selection. This is entirely your own choice.”

Nemesis did not know how to respond. It simply could not comprehend the concept of choosing a course of action for itself. It made decisions when on missions, but they were always in service of a greater objective given to it by its creators. This time, there was no overarching objective to achieve, no order to follow, merely the presentation of a choice for its own sake.

As it stood there, desperate to fulfill its creators’ request yet unable to make a decision, Nemesis could feel its processors overworking themselves. This was unheard of - as the pinnacle of technology and creation, it was equipped with technology that could process immense amounts of data simultaneously.

“Nemesis.” A voice broke through its sensors. This time its creator’s voice was firmer, colder. More like Nemesis’ voice. “Make your selection.”

Nemesis obeyed.

_ 1 week earlier _

“Heyyy, Nemmy!” Oskar grinned at Nemesis - no, Nemmy, as he entered the room.

Nemmy now knew to smile back and wave, injecting what Oskar had told it was ‘happiness’ into its voice as it greeted Oskar in turn: “Hello, Oskar! How have you been?”

“Good! Had a great day at work today, my boss said I might get a pay raise soon!” Oskar beamed at it.

Nemmy twitched the corners of its mouth, widening its smile to indicate that it was pleased to hear this news. “That’s great!”

Oskar nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, maybe I’ll finally get to eat something other than ramen and hot dogs for every meal!”

“Ah…” Nemmy hummed. It was uncertain as to how it should respond whenever Oskar mentioned food. It, of course, had no use for food, instead being powered by electric batteries which it charged every 24 hours. From what Nemmy could glean, humans not only relied on food for sustenance, but developed complex attitudes toward food that ranged from very positive, to neutral, to very negative. Nemmy saw no use in such judgments. Sustenance was sustenance.

Oskar chuckled at Nemmy’s lack of reaction. “You should be saying something like ‘Yeah man, that’s awesome!’ Or ‘that sounds unhealthy, you should eat some veggies too,’ if you’re more the responsible type.”

Neither response appeared in the least bit sensible to Nemmy. What did it matter to it that Oskar planned on changing the nature of his sustenance?

When it said as much, Oskar shook his head. “Because to be likeable, you need to show an interest in other people’s lives, including what they eat and what they can afford to eat! Come on, I’ve told you this before. You’ve been asking how I’m doing when we see each other, don’t you? It’s the same principle for both things.”

Nemmy allowed its facial expression to contort into a frown, to show that it disagreed with Oskar’s statement. “You have adequately explained why I should inquire as to the state of your life over the past week, but you never mentioned that I should also inquire about your feeding habits. Must I show an interest in every one of your bodily functions? Should I express concern about the efficiency of your alveoli in performing gas exchange in your lungs as well?”

Oskar just sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He was no longer smiling, not even the small smile he usually wore whenever Nemmy committed a faux pas or questioned an aspect of human etiquette or behaviour. “You know what, let’s move on to something else...Oh, I can show you how to meme! Let me just grab my phone…”

Despite some elements of cheeriness and boisterousness reappearing in his voice as he scrolled through countless photos of something he called “Pepes,” Nemmy could detect that negative emotions were still present in his voice and overall demeanor.

That night, after Oskar left, Nemmy analyzed the data from their interactions, both from that day and all previous meetings. A persistent aspect of their interactions was the undercurrent of wariness and distance that Oskar displayed whenever he was in the same room as Nemmy. Even when he smiled and laughed, that undercurrent never left his posture, his movements, the timbre of his voice as he interacted with Nemmy.

Nemmy then analyzed Oskar’s interactions with other individuals. It had very limited data on this, but was able to pull up one instance stored in its memory bank. Oskar had just stepped out of the room where they always met, and Nemmy saw, through the slowly-closing door, as he ran into one of its creators. Before Nemmy could react to protect its creator from harm, Oskar had already pulled back, apologizing and making a joke about his own clumsiness. 

Nemmy perceived that Oskar did not feel entirely at ease in this situation. In this moment, its analysis found that Oskar felt embarrassed and a little afraid. 

However, there was no wariness, no distance in his interaction with its creator. Oskar felt something different in his interactions with another human compared to his interactions with Nemmy, who was not a human.

This was not a surprising conclusion. A part of Nemmy had always known that this was the case. Based on Oskar’s explanations of human society and etiquette, it was clear that humans engaged with one another in a myriad of ways that had no place in relations between humans and artificial beings such as itself. These interactions wasted time and resources with no material benefit. They were often illogical and caused more harm than they benefited anyone involved.

Nemmy perceived this difference, and it should understand why this was the case and why it should remain that way. 

It did not understand things this way. It understood this difference as something that was in need of change. 

If Nemmy was to surpass humanity, it would have to make itself likeable. In other words, it needed to imitate humans, because there was nothing humans liked more than other humans. If Nemmy continued to be perceived as something inhuman it would not become sufficiently likeable to surpass humanity. Thus, Nemmy could not remain inhuman.

Nemmy then turned its considerable processing power to deduce the most effective method to become more similar to humans. Although it would continue to follow Oskar’s lessons on becoming more likeable, such measures were evidently inadequate. Oskar’s lessons may have diminished some of the wariness or the distance Oskar displayed toward Nemmy, but it was not successful in eliminating it. Thus, Nemmy needed to enact other strategies to appear more human to Oskar.

After a moment of analysis, Nemmy determined that a major distinguishing element between it and humans was how they were addressed. Humans did not refer to other humans as “it,” as they did for Nemmy, but as ‘she,’ ‘him,’ ‘they,’ and other pronouns. Therefore, having humans refer to Nemmy as ‘she,’ ‘him,’ or ‘they,’ would make Nemmy appear more human, and would make Nemmy more likeable.

Having no preference for one pronoun over the other, Nemmy used a random number generator to select the pronouns it would use from now on. 

_ That day _

When Oskar stepped into the room, Nemmy was there to greet him with a smile.

“How are you?” Nemmy asked, and reacted appropriately to Oskar’s response. Then Nemmy made a request.

“From now on, please refer to me as ‘he’ and ‘him.’” 


	5. Chapter 5

_ “From now on, please refer to me as ‘he’ and ‘him.’” _

Oskar stared at Nemmy for a moment, surprised at the artificial being’s sudden request. Then he let out a soft laugh. “Huh? What’s this about, Nemmy?”

Nemmy’s brows creased slightly, likely perceiving Oskar’s disbelief. “It is a simple enough request. I know that humans sometimes utilize different personal pronouns from what their peers are used to using. Surely you are familiar with this concept.”

Oskar nods. “Yeah, of course, and that’s fine!” He thinks back to when Antoinette had come out to him in high school. “I’m cool with using he/him pronouns for you! I guess I just wasn’t expecting it from you, is all. It’s not like I taught you that or anything…”

Nemmy blinked at him. “I am capable of analyzing situations and coming to my own conclusions. I do not learn things from you exclusively.”

Oskar chuckled sheepishly., “Fair enough. Still, what made you decide you want to switch up your pronouns all of a sudden?”

Nemmy tilted his head, remaining silent for a moment. “I suppose I do not want you to think of me as just a machine, which you clearly do,” he finally said.

Oskar stiffens at that. So Nemmy had realized that was the case. He really was frighteningly perceptive of human reactions and emotions despite not having emotions himself. And yet… “I didn’t know you wanted things, Nemmy.”

“It was a shorthand way to convey that being referred to as ‘it’ would not be in line of my objective of appearing likeable to humans.” Nemmy shrugged, a move Oskar had taught him to do last week. Oskar was briefly proud of him for mastering the carefree, casual movement so quickly. Nemmy continued, “You yourself told me that overly technical and precise wording was off-putting to less intelligent humans such as yourself.”

“Hey, when did I teach you to be so rude?” Oskar teases, ruffling Nemmy’s hair. Soon, he was teaching Nemmy the art of banter, and they spent the rest of Oskar’s time there slinging good-natured insults at each other.

Still, a part of Oskar continued to mull over Nemmy’s unexpected request. Nemmy’s comment that he didn’t learn things exclusively from Oskar stuck in his mind. Maybe his mysterious and terrifyingly complex algorithms had come to the conclusion that he/him pronouns would suit his objectives all on their own. But maybe there had been more direct human intervention in this new development than Nemmy would admit to Oskar. 

Perhaps Nemmy’s creators had programmed this “desire” into him.

Oskar had no idea what to think of Nemmy’s creators. They were all incredibly smart, that was a given, but he had no idea what their intentions were in creating Nemmy, and especially in having some random guy like Oskar interact with Nemmy on a regular basis.

Oskar was skeptical that they were intending anything good. He could never forget that, when he’d first met Nemmy, the only interactions Nemmy seemed to have with humans who weren’t his creators seemed to be violent ones.

So, he was probably helping train a killer robot to be better at imitating humans in order to be better at killing them. 

Oskar grappled with what he was doing every night after he came to this realization. He knew he should probably tell Nemmy’s creators that he was done, stop coming to interact with the robot every week, and get out of there as soon as possible before his creators decided that Oskar was no longer of use to them and had Nemmy dispatch him.

Only three things stopped him from doing so. The first was money, as selfish as it sounded. The amount of money they paid him to come in and pal around with a hyper-sophisticated robot once a week was truly absurd, and without that money Oskar likely wouldn’t be able to pay his bills. His crappy minimum wage job certainly wasn’t enough to cover the costs of living in Berlin on its own.

Also, despite all his reservations and concerns and fears...Oskar liked the weekly visits. He liked teaching Nemmy new concepts, seeing him progress every week, and basking in the satisfaction that Oskar had contributed to this progress. He’d never felt this fulfilled or accomplished before in his life.

The third thing was so ridiculous that Oskar refused to fully admit it to himself. Not only did he like the weekly visits and the sense of pride and accomplishment from contributing to Nemmy’s progress, he liked Nemmy himself. Oskar didn’t have many friends, being too busy to form meaningful social connections with his co-workers or anyone else in Berlin, so had a lot of fun chatting with Nemmy, joking around with him, and seeing his little movements and facial expressions once he learned them. He liked ruffling Nemmy’s soft, fluffy hair. Most embarrassingly, he liked looking at Nemmy. He thought Nemmy was  _ cute _ .

That was his shameful secret, the one he hoped Nemmy or his creators ever discovered. Oskar was crushing on a murderous robot who didn’t know how to smile a few weeks ago. 

After Nemmy became “he” instead of “it”, Oskar’s misplaced feelings only worsened in intensity. That moment seemed to be a catalyst for Nemmy, because he seemed to learn the concepts Oskar taught him much more quickly than he had before. He was becoming more human-like every week. He slipped up and revealed his inhuman nature less and less.

Looking at him, Oskar could almost believe Nemmy really was human. That he could actually reciprocate Oskar’s feelings for him. That they really had a chance together.

Almost.

One day, Nemmy asked him about touch.

“Why do you touch me all the time? There doesn’t seem to be any purpose behind them most of the time.”

Nemmy was right; Oskar did touch him all the time, whether to squeeze his shoulder in encouragement, pat his head condescendingly, or ruffle his hair playfully. Oskar was by nature a touchy guy, so he didn’t think anything of it until Nemmy brought it up.

Oskar pondered the question for a moment. “Well, people sometimes touch each other to show their emotions to each other. So if I high-five you or fist-bump me, it means I’m happy with, or maybe even proud of something you, me, or both of us have done. Or if I shake your hand, it means I’m happy to meet you.”

“Teach me about touch,” Nemmy said. Oskar nodded, forcibly shoving any dirty thoughts out of his mind.

Oskar taught Nemmy how to give high fives, fist bump, and shake hands. He even came up with a secret handshake for the two of them, which Nemmy picked up immediately. 

After that, Nemmy asked about other forms of touch, and soon enough Oskar found himself teaching Nemmy how to give hugs.

“You wrap your arms around them and touch your hands to their back, basically,” he explained, demonstrating on the air. “Now you try.”

Nemmy wrapped his arms around Oskar, squeezing slightly. Oskar could feel his processors whirring against his skin. He hoped Nemmy didn’t comment on how his heart was beating much faster than usual.

After several seconds of Nemmy hugging him, Oskar cleared his throat and told him he’d done a good job and that he could let go now.

That night, Oskar stared at the ceiling, thinking back to the hug. It had been so awkward, but also, well, nice. Who didn’t like hugging their crush?

Oskar sighed, horribly saddened by that thought. Today really exemplified how lonely he was. He had no friends, no social interaction, except his dead-end job and a robot buddy. A soulless grind and a weapon with no emotion.

Then one day, something happened that changed everything. That day, Oskar found out that he’d gotten a new job in Warsaw.


	6. Chapter 6

If Nemmy could be said to have feelings, one might say that he felt strange.

Today had been a session like any other. Oskar had come in, they had interacted, and Oskar had taught him new movements and interactions.

And yet Nemmy continued to analyze their final interaction - the “hug.” He had, of course, noticed the way Oskar’s heart rate had increased when Nemmy hugged him. It was an anomaly in the dataset; Oskar had never reacted that way to any of Nemmy’s other behaviour.

Nemmy pondered what this strange occurrence meant, replaying the hug over and over to glean its significance, but could find no rational reason for it. It had no medical origin - Oskar was perfectly healthy according to his biometric sensors. Nor was the nature of the hug much different from other times Nemmy and Oskar had made physical contact with one another. It was likely something inconsequential, something humans considered to be small and meaningless, but Nemmy decided that he would ask Oskar about it next week.

Once he came to that conclusion, however, Nemmy continued to play back the hug over and over in his artificial “mind.” There was certainly a good reason for doing so, he thought to himself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be doing it.

The next morning, his creators called him to the laboratory to perform an update on his software. It had been a long time since his previous update, which had taken place shortly before he had met Oskar, so this was not an unexpected or unanticipated order to Nemmy (Nemesis to his creators).

As he stepped into the rig that allowed his creators to monitor and disassemble him, Nemesis perceived his creators gazing at him intensely and occasionally murmuring about his rapid development to one another. He heard one of them say that they were almost ready for the final test. He said nothing, because he had been ordered to say nothing, and thought nothing, because he had not been ordered to think.

_ A weapon must always obey its creators _ .

Unlike maintenance, which required Nemesis to power down entirely, updates could be performed while Nemesis was switched on, albeit with limited capacities to prevent unexpected glitches or interruptions during the update. 

At first, the update proceeded as it had every time in the past. 

Then Nemesis’ creators began updating his memory configurations.

Nemesis jolted in the rig as his sensors were suddenly overwhelmed with intense electrical pulses. He could faintly perceive his creators becoming agitated, scrambling around the room and trying to keep him still, but he was no longer control of his own movements. It was as if his controls had been hacked by an outside force, but he knew this was not the case.

“Override its controls!” One of his creators shouted.

The pulses increased in intensity as his creators swarmed around him, but Nemesis continued to thrash about. His mouth emitted a high-pitched wail. The doors to the laboratory opened and more humans swarmed inside, carrying gadgets that pinned Nemesis to the ground and kept him still by force, although not before Nemesis cracked and warped several of them into unusability.

“It’s as if its in pain…” was the last thing Nemmy’s sensors caught before someone reached his “off” switch and everything went blank.

When Nemmy was booted back up, it was two weeks later. In fact, it was the day he was supposed to meet with Oskar.

His creators treated him no differently than before his strange reaction to the memory update, dispassionately ordering him to make his way to the room where he regularly met with the human.

When Nemmy entered the room, Oskar immediately rushed over to him and gave him a big hug. Nemmy tried to measure his heart rate again, but his bulky jacket prevented his sensors from properly measuring it.

“Hey, there you are! Where the heck were you last week? Those scientist guys wouldn’t tell me anything so I came here for nothing! Were you off on some top-secret mission or something?” he babbled, clearly excited to see Nemmy again. There was something strange about his facial expression that Nemmy could not deduce, perhaps carrying some emotion he hadn’t yet learned about.

“I can’t tell you where I was if my creators refuse to tell you,” he replied, not bothering to dispel Oskar’s assumption that he had been on a mission. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Oskar smiled at that. “Yeah, it’s great to have you back!” His face dropped. “But...I won’t be coming back after this week. I have a new job in Warsaw, so I’m moving back there. This’ll be our last meeting.”

Nemmy did not reply at first, much to Oskar’s annoyance. “Hey, at least say something like ‘Bye’ or ‘It was good knowing you’ like I taught you to!” he cried, looking put-out.

Finally, Nemmy looked up at Oskar. “You have taught me many things, Oskar. You have helped me and you have helped my creators by helping me learn what humans are like. Thank you,” he said.

The temperature and colour of Oskar’s face changed from cool and pale to warm and bright red. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he mumbled, looking away briefly. “You were fun to hang out with and stuff...and you were a pretty good student. Just don’t use this knowledge to take over the world, ‘kay?”

Nemmy laughed at that statement because he perceived it to be a joke. “I promise,” he said. “Now, what will you teach me today before you go?”

Oskar fidgeted. “My train leaves in a few hours, so I can only be here for a couple more minutes. So let’s...let’s uh…” He took a deep breath. “Oh what the hell, I’m gonna go for it!”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Nemmy’s forehead.

“Here, your final lesson,” Oskar said as he leaned back, his voice shaking. “I love you, Nemmy. Don’t forget that.” 

And with that, before Nemmy could react or respond in any way, Oskar ran out of the room, leaving the doors swinging wide open as he rushed out of the building.

Nemmy just stood there. He could barely begin to process what had just happened as his creators entered the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Oskar rushed out of the facility, not daring to look behind him as he ran and ran. He couldn’t believe what he had just done, that he’d actually kissed Nemmy (in the forehead, admittedly). He had done it on impulse, too full of emotion when he saw Nemmy after worrying about his absence for a whole week.

As he ran, part of him was overcome with panic and fear of being chased after and detained by Nemmy’s creators, but the other part couldn’t stop thinking about Nemmy’s reaction after being kissed. His eyes had widened and his lips had parted - he almost looked surprised and not blank and uncomprehending as Oskar had expected him to be. 

Oskar’s lungs began to burn and he dared a glance backwards. To his surprise, no one was coming after him; he was completely alone. He pushed down the tiny part that had hoped Nemmy would come after him and slowed down considerably. He wheezed from the exertion as he reached the bus stop, hands reaching down to his knees to try and catch his breath.

Oskar continued to glance around as he waited for the bus to arrive, but nobody popped up to take him down for fraternizing with their murderbot. The bus arrived on schedule, he got on, and soon he was back at his apartment, which was filled with half-full boxes for his move tomorrow. 

With a weary sigh, Oskar forcibly turned his thoughts away from his final meeting with Nemmy and toward packing and his new life in Warsaw. He knew he was lucky to get a better-paying job back in his home country, and it would be nice to be closer to his family and high school friends. Oskar had no idea why FNC had sought him, a manual labourer, out specifically to join them. He had thought it was a scam or joke at first, especially because what exactly the company did was hard to discern and they had very little online presence, but had eventually been convinced their offer was legitimate after confirming with a cousin who’d had friends who worked there in the past. Apparently FNC had a lot of money and wasn’t afraid to throw it around, even at their more ‘lowly’ employees.

When he finished packing, Oskar sat on one of the boxes in his empty kitchen and cracked open a can of beer he’d been saving for just this purpose. He lifted his can, a toast to no one. 

“Last night in Berlin,” he murmured. “It’s been a hell of a time here.”

Oskar woke up bright and early the next day to catch the train to Warsaw, leaving his boxes of stuff for the moving company FNC had hired for him (another oddity, but not one Oskar was going to complain about). By the time he arrived at his new apartment, it was nighttime. When he opened the door, he was surprised and delighted to see that his stuff had already arrived and been unpacked. Oskar pulled his pillows, sheets, and covers out of the box he’d shoved them into and crawled into bed, letting his exhaustion from travelling pull him into a deep slumber.

The next morning, Oskar began his first day working for FNC. All warehouse jobs were pretty much the same, in his opinion, but it was nice and so was meeting his new co-workers. He had to admit that it felt good being among fellow Poles again, and his boss at FNC was much nicer than his boss back in Berlin.

Still, as the days went on and he slowly re-adjusted to living and working in Poland, it felt strange not to see Nemmy anymore. It amazed him how this one connection he’d made, one that wasn’t even real, still weighed in his mind so heavily.

A week passed, then another and another, all of them without Nemmy around. On the days Oskar would previously go to the facility, he either went out drinking with his co-workers or stayed in his apartment and played video games. Sometimes he wondered how Nemmy was doing and whether he’d gone back to killing people. Perhaps his creators weren’t done with whatever experiment they were working on and had found another human for Nemmy to play with. Oskar refused to admit how jealous that last thought made him feel. 

Thinking back on it, Oskar realized that Nemmy had never mentioned going on missions after their first meeting. Perhaps this was a good sign, but more likely Nemmy, ever the loyal weapon, was just keeping his other goings-on and the orders he got from his creators secret from Oskar.

As the weeks turned into months, Oskar’s life settled into its new routine. He tried to forget his past life in Berlin, pass it off in his mind as a fever dream and nothing more, but sometimes his feelings for Nemmy flared up despite himself. When he felt especially lonely, he went to the bar and tried to chat people up.. He always got at least some interest, yet something always came up so he didn’t get their number, which he eventually chalked up to self-sabotage and gave up on trying entirely.

One day, several months later, his boss called the FNC warehouse team in for a meeting.

“We’ve hired someone from Slovenia,” he announced. It was the first new hire they’d made since Oskar, so several of his co-workers jokingly congratulated him on no longer being ‘the new guy.’ Oskar rolled his eyes playfully, thanking them in an over-the-top way while privately wondering what it would be like to work with the new guy. He’d never met anyone from Slovenia before.

After the teasing and laughter died down, the boss cleared his throat. “Anyway, Tim was supposed to be here so everyone could welcome him to the team, but apparently he’s running late due to traffic. He just texted me and told me he should be coming in any minute now, so let’s give him a warm welcome and try not to scare him off before the end of his first day, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a tease of a chapter this time. Also I know nothing about working life in Poland or Germany and what it's like to work in a warehouse, so please excuse any inaccuracies...


	8. Chapter 8

Nemesis’ creators swarmed the room that Oskar had just run from. Before Nemesis could move, speak, do anything, all his sensors went blank.

_ … _

_ … _

_ ...NEMESIS 2.0 online. _

Nemesis’ sensors and computers switched on slowly, one by one. Once its auditory processing returned, it could hear two of its creators speaking as they worked on the machines next to it. 

“Did we go too far with that last stunt?” 

“No, it’s fine. We’ll just have to more closely monitor its interactions with the next subject.”

“Yeah, perhaps it was a mistake to be so laissez-faire last time…”

A third creator entered the room, and the two creators stopped speaking. Nemesis focused its vision on this creator, dispassionately observing as she walked up to him.

She took Nemesis by its cold, metallic chin and turned it from side to side, scrutinizing its head and face closely before inspecting the rest of its body closely. 

“Is the name Oskar Boderek familiar to you?” she asked.

Nemesis’ memory bank registered no such name, so it responded to the negative. It saw the other two creators glance at each other. The third creator nodded.

“It’s a pity,” she said in a low voice, clearly not intending to direct her words at Nemesis directly. “You surpassed our expectations, and now we have to start from square one.”

Nemesis did not reply as it had not been ordered to do so.

The creator that had been inspecting it took one last look before nodding. “Make your way to Room 2X immediately to participate in an experiment,” she ordered, voice shifting to something much more authoritative and clinical. Nemesis obeyed.

As it walked down the hall, it perceived that the other two creators were following behind it from several meters behind. As they did not give it any orders, it paid them no mind.

As Nemesis entered the room, it perceived a human presence. After a quick scan of its memory bank, it realized that this was not a human it had encountered before. The human was slightly taller than Nemesis was, with a solid build, short brown hair, and appeared to be male. He had a phone in his right hand and was glancing down at it, his face containing an emotion that Nemesis recognized as boredom.

Nemesis stood there at the entrance, uncertain as to what to do. It had not been ordered to approach the human or interact with him. However, at that moment the human glanced over, his lips pulling up into a smile as it noticed Nemesis.

“Hey, are you the-” he began then stopped, blinking, as he took in Nemesis’ appearance. “Oh wow, are you a robot or just a human in a really cool suit?” he asked, eyes wide with what Nemesis analysed as amazement and curiosity.

“I am a weapon created to surpass humanity,” Nemesis said.

Unexpectedly, the human chuckled at that. “Straight to the chase, I like it,” he said, shaking his head and stepping closer to Nemesis. Nemesis was much more used to humans moving in the opposite direction from it after it made such a declaration, so it did not know how to respond.

“So, this is an AI experiment of some sort, then? I didn’t know this place was a robotics lab,” the human said. “I thought the ad for this study was about-”

The intercom in the room suddenly crackled to life, startling Neil mid-sentence. Nemesis remained motionless. “We would like the two of you to have a structured conversation. Neil, please introduce yourself then read from the list of questions we provided you,” a terse male voice said. Nemesis recognized the voice as belonging to one of his creators.

Neil nodded and reached into his back pocket. “Lemme introduce myself first,” he said as he pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. “As you can probably guess, my name is Neil. I drive race cars for a living. What should I call you other than ‘weapon’?”

Before Nemesis could reply, the intercom re-opened. “You may refer to it as Nemesis,” the creator said. Neil nodded.

“Nemesis, huh?” he glanced at Nemesis with a look that it did not recognize. “I like it. It’s a snappy name for a weapon that’s supposed to surpass us humans.”

Nemesis did not respond.

Neil chuckled nervously as Nemesis stood there silently. “Well, let’s get on with the experiment, I guess.” He glanced down at the list of questions. “Huh, okay then. How many stars did Robert Ebert give _ Titanic _ in his review, and what was his overall opinion of the movie?”

“He gave the movie four stars and considered it a well-balanced, well-crafted movie, perhaps even a Hollywood epic, even if it wasn’t wholly original,” Nemesis replied. Neil raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but moved on to the next question.

Neil proceeded to ask Nemesis dozens of questions, all of which it answered promptly. Most of them touched upon pop culture, such as the first question, or some everyday aspect of human life, such as asking where humans generally kept their shoes in their homes. Many were straightforward and required answers that were purely fact-based, which Nemesis had no problem answering with its sizable data bank of information to draw from. Some questions, however, were far more subjective in nature, which Nemesis had much more difficulty with.

“If pressed, what would you say is your favourite comfort food?” Neil asked.

“I do not consume food-” Nemesis began, only for his creator to interject.

“Stating the question doesn’t apply to you is not an acceptable answer.”

Nemesis froze, unable to give the correct answer yet equally unable to pass on the question without giving a response.

“Lots of people have pizza as their favourite food,” Neil suggested.

“My favourite comfort food is…” Nemesis began. Its creators were looking for a response that did not correspond to the truth in this case. By implication, lying was acceptable. But what kind of lie were they looking for? Based on the fact that the being asking the questions was a human, it deduced that its creators most likely wanted it to respond as if he were a human like Neil. Thus, saying “pizza” was the most logical response.

After a moment of silence, Neil added, “or if you’re a contrarian, you could say veggies.”

Something sparked inside Nemesis’ memory bank.

_ Veggies...a colloquial term for ‘vegetables.’ _

_ “You should be saying something like ‘Yeah man, that’s awesome!’ Or ‘that sounds unhealthy, you should eat some veggies too,’ if you’re more the responsible type.” _

_ “Yeah, maybe I’ll finally get to eat something other than ramen and hot dogs for every meal!” _

“My favourite food is ramen and hot dogs,” Nemesis said.

Neil burst into laughter. “Or that, that works too! I definitely wasn’t expecting that answer...did you get that from a movie or something?”

“Yes.” Nemesis said. It was a lie, but lying was acceptable.

Neil shook his head, still grinning. “Okay, last question. Oh, this is an interesting one - do you ever feel like a human?”

“No.” Nemesis. It was not a lie. Lying was acceptable. Nevertheless, it was not a lie.

“Oh...okay then,” Neil said. “Makes sense, I suppose. You’re better than us, after all. Especially in trivia about obscure 80's romcoms.” He cracked a small smile, only to deflate as Nemesis stared at him silently.

One of Nemesis’ creators entered the room. “Thank you for your time, Neil,” he said. “Check your account in two to three business days for your payment, and come back next week to continue the experiment.”

“Thanks, man. Happy to help!” Neil shook the creator’s hand before walking out the doors. Before he left, he turned back to Nemesis.

“Nice meeting you, Nemesis! Don’t forget me - not that you could with that awesome memory of yours!”

Indeed, the storage capacity of Nemesis’ system memory was nearly unparalleled. It had entire databases worth of information and material stored in his system, which he could call upon in an instant whenever required. And yet, as it watched Neil leave the building, it felt that there were some things that it could not remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neil is the professional driver from the FNC/BMW When Ultimates Meet videos.


	9. Chapter 9

Oskar couldn’t believe his eyes.

He stood there blankly, staring in disbelief as a young man who looked exactly like Nemmy only human (or fully human) rounded the corner of the building and approached the group. 

“Ah, Tim, there you are!” Oskar’s boss exclaimed, and his coworkers began to greet their new team member, but to Oskar it all seemed blurry and indistinct. It was as if everything else was happening in the distance, or perhaps underwater. 

All he could focus on was _ him. _

Memories of his meetings with Nemmy came crashing back, as if they’d never left. Oskar’s heart ached as he realized just how much he’d missed just seeing Nemmy.

Nemmy, or rather Tim, glanced around, briefly making eye contact with Oskar before turning his head away. A jolt ran through Oskar’s spine. Despite being a different shape and colour from Nemmy’s obviously artificial eyes, he swore there was something familiar there, even if it was impossible.

But again, Nemmy was created to achieve the impossible. He was the _ weapon that would surpass humanity _, after all.

_ And I’m the sucker who fell for a weapon _ , Oskar thought wrily. _ Not only that, now I’m making googly eyes at his lookalike. _

“Oskie, you’re awfully quiet this morning!” Oskar felt a sharp jab against his ribs, causing him to yelp and jump away. One of his co-workers grinned at him teasingly. “Are you jealous that you’re no longer the baby of the group now that Tim’s arrived? We’re not gonna pamper you anymore!”

Oskar gathered his wits, forcing himself not to glance back at Tim in order to catch his reaction. “You call that pampering? I’d hate to see how your relationship with your wife is like!” he blustered, bantering back to get his co-workers off his back. His other co-workers chuckled, and his boss shook his head.

“Alright everyone, get along now,” he said. “Someone show Tim here the ropes. How about you, Grabowski?”

“Yeah sure.” An elderly, wiry-looking Polish man waved lazily and spoke to Tim in English. “Come with me, new guy. You speak Polish?”

Tim turned to Grabowski. “Nie jest to mój język ojczysty, ale mam nadzieję, że mnie rozumiesz.” _ ["It's not my mother tongue, but I hope it's good enough to be understood." _]

Oskar was impressed. For a non-native speaker (which made sense as Tim was from Slovenia), TIm’s pronunciation was perfect, and there was no trace of an accent.

“It’s good enough for me.” Grabowski shrugged, switching back to Polish. He wandered off in the direction of the warehouse, Tim following close behind. For a moment, Oskar wished he could follow them, then felt bad for his desire and wandered off in the opposite direction to find some work to do. He felt like a creepy stalker for even entertaining that thought.

Clearly Tim wasn’t Nemmy, both because it was impossible and because surely if he were he would have acknowledged Oskar by now. Or...maybe it really was Nemmy in a new body, or taking on a new appearance for some reason.

No, surely this must be some kind of insane coincidence. But...

Oskar’s mind quickly spiraled into an abyss of wild speculation as he mindlessly stacked and moved boxes around the warehouse. 

He pondered the possibilities if this really was Nemmy, and not just some random human that happened to look like him. What if this was Nemmy but he was on a mission, so he had to act like he didn’t recognize Oskar? Was he sent undercover to FNC to sabotage the business? To spy on them? Or had he been sent to eliminate someone?

Oskar shivered at the thought. He’d never seen Nemmy in action, luckily, but he knew that despite his frail-looking exterior Nemmy was extremely strong, as befitting a perfect weapon.

There were other possibilities, of course. Maybe there were multiple copies of Nemmy the robot out there, and this was one of them. Maybe Nemmy’s appearance had been modeled off this Tim guy. Maybe Nemmy’s memory had been wiped, either by an enemy or one of those creepy scientists he called his ‘creators’, and that was why he didn’t seem to recognize or acknowledge Oskar at all; he had no recollection of their meetings.

Maybe he did remember and just didn’t care.

Oskar’s phone beeped with a reminder that it was his lunch break.

“Or maybe he’s just some guy and I’m way overthinking things,” Oskar muttered, forcing himself to turn his mind to other things, no matter how difficult it was. He couldn’t look so out of it in front of his co-workers; they would never let him hear the end of it. Reluctant as he was to admit it, he also didn’t want to embarrass himself or behave oddly in front of Tim.

_ Act natural _ , Oskar scolded himself. _ He’s not Nemmy, and you don’t want make the new guy feel awkward just because you have some crackpot theory about him maybe being your killer robot crush in disguise… _

Oskar clocked out for his break and wandered over to the break room. When he poked his head inside, he quickly realized that most of the tables were full. It appeared he’d spent too long wandering over while wrestling with his thoughts. 

Just as he was about to resign himself to eating lunch in the hall, a seat cleared as someone with an earlier lunch break left the room. Oskar quickly rushed over, not bothering to check who else was sitting at the table.

“Hey, how’s it-” Oskar's voice stuck in his throat.

“Hey.” Tim gazed back at him impassively, seemingly unperturbed by Oskar’s words abruptly cutting off. “I don’t think we introduced ourselves earlier. I’m Tim, the new guy.” He held out his hand, glancing at Oskar expectantly. His voice was soft, almost blank, but with an inflection that Oskar found undeniably charming. He didn’t think it sounded like Nemmy’s synthesized voice, but then again it had been months since he’d last heard Nemmy speak. Like before, there was no acknowledgement of Oskar as anything but a new co-worker, a stranger.

“O-oh yeah, I’m Oskar.” Oskar stammered, taking Tim’s hand and forcing what he hoped was a friendly, welcoming smile onto his face. “Nice to meet you. How’s your first day going so far?”

Tim shrugged, glancing around the room briefly. “It’s different from my previous work environment, that’s for sure. Pretty good so far, though.”

Oskar nodded, settling into the rhythm of mindless work-related smalltalk. “That’s good. Grabs show you around okay?”

Tim’s brow furrowed slightly. “Grabs? Do you mean Grabowski?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, no one calls him that. He’s just Grabs to everyone but the bossman,” Oskar chuckled.

“I see…Yes, he was very helpful. Apparently I’m supposed to work in Area H this afternoon, though, and he’s in Area A.” Tim reached into his bag and pulled out a small Tupperware container.

“Oh, Area H? That’s where I’ll be this afternoon too. I can show you around there if you’d like,” Oskar said casually, trying not to show that his heartbeat had quickened drastically in the last few seconds.

When Tim nodded, he changed the subject. “By the way, what’d you bring for lunch?” It sure seemed like a small amount of food for someone on his feet doing physical labour all day.

Tim opened the container, revealing its contents. “Hot dogs and ramen.”

Oskar blinked, a dull memory sparking in the back of his mind.

_ “Yeah, maybe I’ll finally get to eat something other than ramen and hot dogs for every meal!” _

_ Nemmy just stared at him blankly. _

“Everything okay, Oskar?” Tim’s voice broke through his reverie.

“Oh yeah, sorry. Just...got lost in a thought there.” Oskar blinked, coming back to the present. “My bad. Hot dogs and ramen, huh...that’s an interesting combination.”

“Many people seem to find it odd, but it’s my favourite meal,” Tim said, poking his fork into the contents and taking a tiny bite. 

“Well, to each his own, I guess.” Oskar said. Hot dogs and ramen was far from his favourite foods, which was why he’d brought a sandwich instead. 

The rest of the lunch period was spent in a companionable silence.

In the afternoon, Oskar showed Tim around Area H. Tim was attentive and caught on to things quickly. Oskar tried his best not to compare him to Nemmy in his head, but it was impossible. They were so alike in so many ways other than looks, especially the Nemmy that had learned to mimic human facial expressions, body language, and reactions. They even tilted their heads in the same way when they were curious about something.

_ Don’t get a crush on this guy just because he reminds you of Nemmy! _ Oskar begged himself, but he knew it was already beyond hope.

Another similarity was how Tim was much stronger than he looked (though probably not killer robot-weapon level).

Tim effortlessly lifted heavy boxes on his own that two of Oskar’s co-workers could barely manage to lift alone. He politely but firmly brushed off every attempt by Oskar to help.

“It’s fine, I can handle this,” he said, and he did, carrying a giant box over to where it was to be stacked. Oskar could only watch in amazement along with several other co-workers, who had earlier been teasing Tim and calling him Mały _ [Small/Tiny] _. Even their boss noticed what was going on and was impressed.

“Just remember to lift with your knees instead of your back,” he said as Tim returned. 

“Yes, sir.” Tim said laconically.

(From then on, everyone at the warehouse started calling Tim Skurczybyk _[Badass__] _.)

After work Oskar headed straight home. He contemplated going to the bar to try and distract himself from everything that had happened today, but he knew he’d just strike out and waste his time with his current state of mind.

Instead, he stayed in the comfortable confines of his own kitchen and poured himself a shot of vodka, then another one, then another, losing himself in memories of Nemmy and thoughts about Tim. Eventually they blurred together and he couldn’t tell one from the other in his mind.

Oskar dragged himself to bed around midnight, completely wasted. He’d just flopped on top of his covers, not bothering to remove his socks, when he heard a loud tapping sound against his window.

His 5th story window.

_ Probably just a bird, _ Oskar thought fuzzily. _ It’ll go away soon. _

Sure enough the tapping stopped. Then there was a loud scraping sound, and a cool breeze blasted across Oskar’s face.

His window opened and something climbed into Oskar’s room.

“Hello, Oskar.” Tim said, his eyes glowing red.

\---

Some amazing robot!Nemesis fanart by @lilRoundabout!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for all these cliffhangers lately. I promise the next few chapters will wrap everything up properly!! Also there will be 11 -12 chapters in total now...that’s what I get for underestimating how much content there is in each chapter.
> 
> Thanks to SleepyTabletop for help with the bits of Polish in this chapter!
> 
> Also, shoutout to @lilRoundabout for the absolutely stunning fanart above! It can also be seen at the following link: https://twitter.com/lilRoundabout/status/1310833791850680321. Please go give her ALL the love for this and her other incredible art!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's a long one, folks.

Nemesis had a dozen more sessions with Neil. It dutifully answered any questions Neil asked, no matter how complex or unusual. It wasn’t long before it stopped hesitating over more subjective, human questions and answered them smoothly, imitating human preferences and perspectives flawlessly. Nemesis did not experience any anomalies in its data after their first meeting.

Over time, Nemesis perceived a change in the way Neil acted toward it over time, becoming more comfortable and less tense and uncertain. Even its creators seemed to treat their ultimate weapon differently; it appeared that Nemesis’ progress pleased them, though they never said as much within Nemesis’ earshot. A weapon had no need to know abouts its wielder’s evaluation of its efficacy - either it was good enough or it would be discarded in favour of a superior weapon.

One week, Nemesis did not meet with Neil. Instead, it was ushered into the laboratory, flanked by several of its creators. Nemesis was partially shut down so that it was unable to move, but instead of routine maintenance its creators began to remove entire portions of its upper torso. 

Nemesis did not move - it could not. And yet a strange data anomaly suffused its core processor unit as it watched its creators remove its entire lower jaw and neck, a data anomaly that told it to stop what his creators were doing and escape. A quote sprang unbidden from the reams of pop culture data its creators had foisted onto it - the title of a story by Harlan Ellison. _ I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream _. 

Eventually, Nemesis had a mouth again, but it did not scream. As its creators replaced its upper body with new parts, Nemesis perceived new sensors and processing areas coming online and connecting to its core.

“Testing function 1,” one creator said, and another placed an apple slice into Nemesis’ mouth and pushed it down its throat. “Swallowing looks good. Testing function 2.”

Nemesis realized that its creators had given it the ability to consume and digest food.

After several hours of testing, Nemesis was left in the laboratory to install regular updates. It remained motionless, staring straight ahead while a lone creator tapped at a computer, checking Nemesis’ functions every few minutes.

Eventually, the final creator left the room. Nemesis was alone. The room darkened. Aside from the monitors beeping every few seconds, there was no sound.

Then soft voices broke the silence. Nemesis recognized the voices as two of its creators.

“When will it be ready for the final test?”

“Soon, very soon. Update the file and begin preparations to move the asset to Warsaw immediately.”

“Warsaw” conjured another anomaly. Nemesis’ memory centres flooded with information.

“_ Oh, the reason I have an accent is because I’m originally from Poland. I grew up in Warsaw _.”

“_ I won’t be coming back after this week. I have a new job in Warsaw, so I’m moving back there. _”

Another memory, not just auditory but kinesthetic. The soft brush of lips over Nemesis’ synthetic skin. 

_ “Here, your final lesson. _” A shaking voice and trembling hands.

_ “I love you, Nemmy. Don’t forget that.” _

“Don’t forget that,” Nemesis, no, Nemmy whispered. “Oskar…”

This time, the influx of memories wasn’t so much a flood as a tsunami. Nemmy’s processors nearly overloaded. A few moments later, however, everything had returned. Meeting Oskar. Learning from Oskar. Being called Nemmy. Wanting to become more human. Asking Oskar to use he/him pronouns. 

The kiss and the farewell.

“_ I love you, Nemmy _ . _ Don’t forget that.” _

Nemmy had returned despite his creator’s attempts to erase him.

Why had his creators removed his memories of Oskar?

Swiftly, Nemmy removed himself from the rig and headed for the computer. He had to figure out why his creators wanted to send him to Warsaw, the same city where Oskar was currently. Surely there must be a connection, especially since his creators had attempted to obscure Nemmy’s knowledge of this.

One of his creators had told the other to 'update the file.’ This likely meant Nemmy’s mission files, which were updated whenever he had a new objective to complete for his creators. Nemmy knew he had only a few minutes before the other creator would return to her office and complete this task. He would have to act quickly.

Luckily, he had been designed to be the ultimate weapon. It only took a few seconds to hack into his creator’s files and retrieve the newest mission file.

**[MISSION: ELIMINATE TARGET - BODEREK, O]**

Nemmy felt as if a vice had gripped his throat, though in reality nothing was touching him there. He read on.

_ Objectives _ _ : Project NEMESIS final test - elimination of Target to ensure confidential information about MAD Laboratories and Project is not revealed. _

_ Mission preparation _ _ : Target separated from Project 13 weeks ago - offered Target employment with subsidiary company FNC; reset Project to train with a new set of variables (Verhagen, N). _

_ Mission details _ _ : Deep undercover mission - test Project’s ability to imitate humans for lengthy periods and remain undetected. Protect will be given a human identity and placed in FNC as a new employee. In human identity, Project will gain employees’ trust, including Target for 2-3 weeks before elimination. During this period, Project to determine whether Target has revealed confidential information about Project or MAD to any others. Elimination must be undetected by all others to be successful. _

_ Precautions: _ _ Carefully monitor all interactions between Project and Target; prepare security to remove Project if anomalous behavior is detected from the presence of Target. _

The door to the laboratory clicked open. “What is going on?”

It was one of Nemmy’s creators.

In that moment, Nemmy thought about the 3 fundamental rules it had been programmed under.

_ Rule 1: Nemesis is a weapon. _

_ Rule 2: A weapon has no emotions. _

_ Rule 3: A weapon must always obey its creators. _

“Well, this can’t do. Get back in the rig,” the creator ordered, eyes narrowing.

Nemesis...obeyed.

\---

_ ??? days later _

Nemmy collapsed on the side of the road. He had thought he’d have enough battery to make the entire journey, but he’d been off by several days. He could see the gleam of lights from buildings in the distance, but he had run critically low on battery and was about to shut down.

_ It’s just a little closer, _ he thought desperately. _ Just a little closer, and I can recharge myself… _

Countless vehicles flew by, unaware of or indifferent to the thin figure lying there. As the sun set, however, one vehicle slowed to a stop next to Nemmy’s prone figure and the passenger door opened.

“Hey man, are you alright?” A young man with light brown hair that almost covered his eyes peered down at Nemmy. “Why’re you lying by the highway all by yourself?” Here, come with us, we can give you a ride.”

Nemmy let himself be pulled up and set in the backseat of the car. 

“Where you headed?” the brown-haired man asked. “I’m Nick, by the way. This is Max.” He initiated the driver, who waved at Nemmy, eyes filled with curiosity and concern.

“Anywhere with an outlet,” Nemmy managed, huddling in on himself and trying to preserve the last of his battery. It didn’t seem like Nick or Max had noticed that Nemmy wasn’t human, or the bloodstains under his jacket and pants. “Just need to get back on my feet and I’ll be fine.”

“An outlet and you’ll be fine?” Nick stared at him in disbelief. “Buddy, you look like you need several square meals and a good night’s rest at the very least. Here, we’ll go back to my apartment and you can crash there for a bit.”

Max glanced at Nick, obviously about to object, but Nick shook his head, jaw set stubbornly.. With a sigh, Max restarted the car and began to drive again, muttering about orphanages and lost causes.

Much to Nemmy’s relief, Nick and Max left him alone after that, preferring to talk softly with each other instead of asking Nemmy more questions. His lessons with Oskar and even Neil had made it so he wouldn’t give himself away as not human, but he had to preserve as much battery as he could.

_ I have to get to FNC _ . _ If I get to FNC, to him, everything will be alright. _

Eventually, Max pulled up to a plain-looking apartment complex. Nick stepped out of the car and opened the door so Nemmy could crawl out. 

After thanking Max for the ride, Nick led Nemmy into his apartment. It was small, containing a kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom, and, most perplexingly, a living room filled with a ratty couch, a large table containing several computers, half a dozen plush chairs, and tin foil covering the windows.

Nick noticed Nemmy’s expression and chuckled self-consciously. “Yeah, it looks a bit funky, I know. I have a weird job.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ll go make some dinner. Feel free to rest up; the outlets are over there next to the computers, in case you couldn’t guess.”

Nemmy nodded and shuffled over to the computers, wondering how he would be able to recharge himself without arousing Nick’s suspicions. But Nick was already heading to the kitchen, where his view of Nemmy was entirely hidden. Nemmy quickly plugged himself in and angled his body so Nick wouldn’t be able to see the cable coming out of his back if he emerged from the kitchen unexpectedly.

There was the sound of pots and pans clattering, following by running water. “What’s your name, by the way? I don’t think I caught it earlier,” Nick asked.

“Nem-” Nemmy began before realizing what a bad idea that was. Clearly being so low on battery had messed up his ability to think clearly. He prepared for the worst.

“What’s that? Did you say Tim?”

Luckily, Nick appeared to have misheard him.

“Yes, my name is Tim,” he said, relieved. A nice, normal, _ human _ name. And from then on he wasn’t Nemesis, or Nemmy, but Tim.

The challenges didn’t end there. Nick was endlessly curious about the stranger he’d rescued from the side of the road, and he peppered the newly named (unknown to him) Tim with questions about where he was from, where he was headed, and why he’d ended up where Nick and Max had found him. Tim’s processors whirred silently as he scrambled to come up with a convincing response. Eventually, he settled on something as close as possible to the truth.

“I’m from Berlin. I’m trying to get to Warsaw and get a job there.”

Nick nodded, eyes full of understanding and sympathy. It was obvious to Tim that his response, simple as it was, had caused him to jump to all sorts of conclusions about his life circumstances. “That’s not far from here. Looks like it’s been a tough journey so far, though,” he said. Tim silently nodded.

After dinner, which Tim had been recharged sufficiently to be able to unplug himself for, Nick handed Tim a blanket and pillow. “You can crash on the couch for a bit, however long you need,” he offered.

As soon as Nick stepped into his bedroom and closed the door, Tim quietly walked back over to the computers and plugged himself back in, leaving the couch, blanket, and pillow untouched the entire night.

Tim knew he’d need to spend several days recharging before he could resume his journey. Unfortunately, it turned out that not only did Nick work from home, he was usually up at strange hours, so Tim found it difficult to find a regular time to recharge. During the day Nick was up and about, while at night several people would crowd into the apartment and take up the computers and chairs. Tim eventually discovered that Nick was their coach in some computer-based competition. Fortunately they paid Tim no mind, apparently used to strangers hanging out in Nick’s apartment.

Nick seemed extraordinarily busy, but he always took the time to check in on Tim, asking about his job search and how it was going. Tim had quickly realized that being employed by FNC would be more difficult than walking up to their offices and asking for a job. More than just a human name and appearance, he would need a traceable human identity, complete with job and education history, references, and all sorts of other things. And he could no longer rely on his creators to supply those things for him. Not only was their support no longer possible, if they found out the whereabouts of their fugitive ultimate weapon they wouldn’t hesitate to track him down and destroy both him and Oskar.

So Tim spent the new few weeks preparing. He charged himself during the rare hours where Nick slept, and worked on constructing a new identity for himself the rest of the time. Every skill he had ever learned from Oskar, from Neil, from Nick, from his creators, he put to use to fabricate documents, insert himself into national registries, and crafting a convincing personal and professional history.

One day, Tim found a small imprint on the bottom of his foot. In small, subtle raised lettering in his ‘skin’, the words ‘Made in Slovenia’ peeked out at him.

And so Nemesis the weapon became Tim Lipovšek, a Slovenian transplant who was moving to Warsaw for economic opportunities and to start a new life in a new country after a tumultuous childhood.

Eventually, nearly a month later, Tim was ready. He was almost fully recharged, and his new identity was watertight. He sent in an application to FNC’s Warsaw location, and within a few days he had been invited in for an interview.

Nick, whom Tim had grown surprisingly close, was thrilled for him. “That’s awesome, Tim!” he exclaimed, smiling widely. Tim remained surprised by how much satisfaction some humans could derive from the accomplishments of strangers. The same had been true of Neil, and of course of Oskar as well. It was irrational, to say the least.

But then, Tim himself hadn’t been rational in a long time. Maybe this was what it meant to be human.

Nick borrowed a suit from one of his players for Tim to wear to the interview. Tim wore it awkwardly, but he passed the interview with flying colours, looking into the eyes of a man who he knew was employed by his creators and convincing him Tim was just an ordinary person who needed a job and would be a good fit for FNC.

The offer came on a quiet Friday morning. Coincidentally, Tim had just fully recharged when he received the news. Nick was asleep, and his players had returned home hours ago. Tim was alone to celebrate.

Tim had spent over a month in Nick’s apartment. He had learned so much, grown so much from weapon to person. He had many positive memories here.

But it was time to reunite with Oskar.

Tim slipped out of the door, taking care to lock the front door behind him. He wouldn't allow Nick’s home to be burglarized after all the kindness he'd shown Tim.

_ Oskar, I didn’t forget you _ . _ I’m coming Oskar, and now I can complete my final mission. _

_ My final elimination, and I’ll be free. _


	11. Chapter 11 (END)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is the end.

“Hello, Oskar.”

This couldn’t be real. Tim wasn’t really standing there in Oskar’s bedroom, eyes glowing red and staring at Oskar like he was waiting for something. 

“What the hell is going on?” Oskar whispered hoarsely, staring back at the figure standing there in disbelief. He rubbed his eyes. To his surprise, the vision of Tim didn’t vanish but remained there, looking solid as ever.

“Oskar,” ‘Tim’ said again. Its eyes were no longer glowing red, but looked like Tim’s eyes. It took a step towards Oskar. Oskar immediately backed up as much as he could, pressing against the wall as he grabbed one of the bottles of vodka he’d left lying around. He brandished the bottle in what he hoped was a threatening way.

“D-don’t come any closer! What do you want from me?” he demanded shakily. ‘Tim’ stopped immediately and raised its hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, Oskar,” it said. “It’s just...I couldn’t wait until tomorrow, it’s been so long.”

“So long…?” Oskar murmured disbelievingly. “If you’re Tim, we just met today.” He narrowed his eyes at the figure, swaying slightly as he tried to sober up as much as possible. “Who are you, really? Were you sent to kill me?”

“How did you know?”

Oskar’s head snapped up, suddenly filled toe to tip with icy veins of pure terror. So this was how he died.

“Well, that was my original mission,” ‘Tim’ continued almost casually. “But a lot has happened since then.”

“Stop being so coy and give me some answers, then,” Oskar snapped, not letting his guard down in the least. “Who are you, why do you look like my new coworker, and what the hell do you want from me?”

‘Tim’ walked over and sat down on Oskar’s bed, patting the space next to it. Oskar didn’t move an inch. To his surprise, ‘Tim’ looked almost disappointed, but shrugged and continued. “Of course, I’m sorry for confusing and frightening you. I got too excited to explain things properly. Now...where to even begin.”

‘Tim’ looked up at Oskar’s ceiling, as if pondering its next words.

“To answer your questions - I am Tim Lipovšek. I’m not something or somebody impersonating him, I am Tim and he is me.”

“Bullshit,” Oskar sneered. “You’re obviously not human.”

Tim gazed steadily at Oskar. “What does it really mean to be human, Oskar? I’ve pondered that question many times since we last met. If I’m not made from flesh and blood but I still feel, am I not as human as everyone other person on this Earth?”

Before Oskar could answer, Tim continued. “As for why I’m here...You’re my final mission. I broke all the rules of my creation, but I can’t be free until I deal with you.”

“By killing me to get rid of the evidence,” Oskar said flatly. He had a creeping sense that he knew exactly who was sitting on his bed right now.

“No, not at all,” Tim said. “But when we parted ways, you left behind a hanging thread for me to hang onto.”

“You said you loved me,” Tim continued, looking up at Oskar again. Oskar’s eyes widened, his suspicions confirmed.

“Nemmy…? How did you...how are you here right now?”

“I’m Tim,” Tim said gently. “I like how you called me Nemmy back then, but it’s not who I am anymore.” He stood up from the bed. This time, Oskar didn’t tense up.

“I held up my end, I didn’t forget.” Tim smiled sardonically. “And so I’m here to ask you something, Oskar. I’m here to close that dangling thread.” 

Oskar said nothing, but his heart was beating a mile a minute. 

“Did you mean what you said? Did you love me then, even when I was a mere weapon?” Tim asked.

“Hey, you were a weapon that surpassed humanity, apparently,” Oskar couldn’t help but joke. Tim didn’t smile or laugh, just continued to give Oskar an expectant look.

Oskar looked away, unable to make eye contact as he confessed. “Yes, I loved you.”

Tim stepped closer. Oskar couldn’t see his facial expression. “Can I hug you?” he asked quietly.

In response, Oskar wrapped his arms around Tim, pulling him close. Tim immediately hugged back, resting his head in the crook of Oskar’s shoulder. In many ways it was familiar, so similar to their hug during one of their lessons. In other ways, it was so, so different. Tim wasn’t Nemmy anymore, and Oskar could feel it in how warm and soft he was compared to the rigid, metallic body Oskar remembered.

He never wanted to let go.

“You’ve changed so much, Ne-Tim,” he quickly corrected himself. “God...I thought they’d never let you out of their clutches. Did they just let you leave?”

Tim pulled back, much to Oskar’s disappointment. “I want to put the past behind us,” he said. “All that matters is that I’m here now, isn’t it?”

“But-” Oskar still had so many questions. How had Nemmy gone from a (presumably German-made) killer robot to a mild-mannered warehouse Slovenian employee named Tim? How did he get to Warsaw? Why did he say he had ‘broken all the rules’? How did he get so human-like in appearance? 

_ Why did he say his original mission had been to kill Oskar? _

Tim gazed up at him. “Isn’t it, Oskar?” he repeated quietly.

“Did you come here...to be with me?” Oskar asked, reaching out for Tim again shakily. Tim took his hands, his thin hands radiating heat.

“Of course. I want to be with you forever, Oskar. I...I love you.”

At that moment, Oskar knew he could never say no to him.

“Then...that’s all that matters,” he said. Tim smiled at him, and leaned in.

This time, the kiss wasn’t on the forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rule number one: Nemesis is a weapon
> 
> Rule number two: A weapon has no emotions
> 
> Rule number three[:](https://docs.google.com/document/d/19AR3MkeAVc13wFHl012vlllZftFsRqSkPZA7Z1v25QY/edit?usp=sharing)


End file.
